Dear Eddi, Dear Luc
by Allyse
Summary: One month after Eddi's departure Luc writes a letter, unaware that Eddi is doing the same thing.
1. Dear Eddi - November

**Dear Eddi - November**

* * *

Dear Eddi,

It's Luc, but I guess you already know that from my handwriting. You always said it was terrible and you could spot it a mile off even if you couldn't read it. I hope you can read this. Your phone is always turned off and I only know your email address at Holby so this was the only way.

I know you said you wanted to do this away from "us" and I guess writing to you goes against that. But I just couldn't _not_ send this. I feel there's more to say – so much more – and none of it was said when you left and that's something I regret.

I wish I could have been the one to help you but please know that I understand. I get it. Nevertheless, I'm still here for you, whenever you want to call. I also want you to know that I'm still at Holby. I didn't run. I bet you thought that would be the first thing I'd do but I'm still here.

The irony is that I decided to stay somewhere and I did it for you. You made me break every rule I've ever had and that seemed too profound a thing to let go of even after you left instead.

We're far too similar, you and I, more so than you'd ever want to admit. All those months you spent fighting with me because you said I was too impossible, too sarcastic, too irritable. An enigma you couldn't understand. You called me it all. But you were also describing yourself too.

I knew that first day.

We had very different reasons for being on the hospital roof that morning but something drew us both there. I'm there now, as I write this. Not because I'm hung-over like you were and not even because I need space. It just reminds me of you and reminds me that you're gone. I need that memory and the resolve it gives me to write this or I might give in to your final words.

The thing is, I'd hate to think that you might change your mind some day, but don't come back because you think I won't be waiting. Or because you're too stubborn to go back on your word.

Let me say it again: I'm still here.

I know you think I'll run but I won't. I promised you that I'd never leave again and I keep my promises. I hope one day when you're well enough and ready enough, you'll let me prove it to you. Please let me prove it to you.

Finally, I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you. You are so brave to face up to this. I know you can beat it. Believe _me_, if no one else, because when have I ever sugar-coated anything?

I'm sorry I won't be there to help you, but Liam will. He knows you better than anyone.

But Liam was wrong about one thing. You'll _never_ be your mother. Genetics may have a lot to answer for but there's no accounting for character. And _you_ are a strong character and by far the most stubborn person I have ever met. So be stubborn now and show Liam a different side to you.

One day, I hope you'll share that person with me too.

Take care,

Luc

* * *

A/N: I hate loose ends and that final scene on Tuesday's Holby left far too many things unsaid and too many questions unanswered. So I caved and wrote a Leddi fic!


	2. Dear Luc - November

**Dear Luc - November**

* * *

Dear Luc,

Bet you'll be surprised to get this!

In the age of email and the iPhone, I'm surprised to be writing it! They confiscated my phone (sound familiar?) when I arrived here, claiming it would help me "fully engage in the process of healing". So, there's no outside communication except for Liam's daily visits and a 50p-per-minute pay phone. Everything costs a fortune here, but I have some money saved up (no, I didn't spend _all_ my salary on booze!) so that's how I'm paying for my rehab. May as well do this properly or not at all, right?

Anyway, the reason for this letter is completely the fault of the rather eager counsellor I've been assigned to. He takes great pleasure in psycho-analysing me all day. The pair of you would get on great!

He's given me this exercise where I write two letters: one to the person I most need to forgive and one to the person I most need forgiveness from. I think he intended me to write to Mum and Liam respectively but for some reason it was you I kept thinking about. For _both_ letters. So that's why I'm writing this. I don't think I'm even meant to post it but I don't always do as I'm told, do I?

So, here we go:

Dear Luc (again)

How are you? How's your research going? Any breakthroughs? If by any chance you're still at Holby – you know, if the camper's been clamped again or Michael has finally lost it and chained you to the nurse's station – then please say hi to Sacha for me.

I'm in a rehab centre called "Sunshine Clinic" just outside Leeds. I thought rehab would be grim but turns out its even worse. Is it possible for somewhere to be depressingly cheerful? Because it's seriously cheerful here – all smiley, positive staff and bright yellow walls – and it makes me miss AAU so much. Give me a grumpy patient and half-hourly obs and your straight-talking any day!

But, if I am to believe what they say, then something must be working. They tell me I'm doing well and I don't think they'd lie about that. Though this doesn't stop me wanting to punch my counsellor every time he tells me to let it all out! I don't cry in front of doctors any more. You were the last.

Anyway, I suppose I better talk about forgiveness. It's a big word – eleven letters, three syllables – and it carries a huge weight. I guess I want to tell you these three things:

1. I forgive you for telling Sacha and Michael about my problem.

2. I forgive you for bringing Liam into all this.

3. And I even forgive you for kidnapping me in your stupid campervan (thank you for caring about me enough to be such a nutcase).

At the same time, I'm sorry for a whole lot of things. I'm sorry for not trusting you to come back and I'm sorry for trusting Max. Most of all, I'm sorry for these pills. I never thought it was in me. I never wanted to be like this, and yet it was such an easy thing to fall into. I'm so sorry.

I also wanted to ask if you'll forgive me for running away and leaving you. Apparently you're not the only one with an instinct to flee! I still stand by what I said: if I had stayed, I would have hurt you. And I could never do that. But I regret leaving so abruptly, without really talking it through. I guess, I thought it would be too hard if I thought about it too much. Please forgive me for being selfish.

Having said that, I was wrong when I said I would never come back. Never say never! It's just I've never had a reason to come back before. Not like now. Not like you.

I guess you understand this. You came back to rescue me from Max, didn't you? Even if that was ridiculous and crazy at the time. I know you're probably not at Holby any more. I know that campervan won't necessarily be waiting for me in the car park. But maybe, when I'm better, I could track you down and I could ask for your forgiveness in person? Would you let me do that?

Until then, I'll send this care-of the hospital and hope you left a forwarding address. I know by posting this, you'll think I'm going back on what I said when I left you, but it seems you've got under my skin too.

I spent all those months convincing myself that I didn't care about you. But the more I screamed about how much I hated you the more I really did seem to care. Stupid, isn't it? Very unlike me. Even more unlike you. Maybe we're not as different as I once thought.

Eddi


	3. Dear Eddi - December

**Dear Eddi - December**

* * *

Dear Eddi,

Thank you for your letter.

You have no idea how pleased I was to get it. Sacha handed it to me with something just short of glee when he saw the Leeds postmark. He says hello by the way and that you are to call him as soon as you are in possession of your phone once more.

I'm ok, I suppose, thanks for asking. How are you?

I've mainly been hiding out in my lab or on the roof but I'm not sure how long I'll be able to get away with it. Hanssen has taken a sabbatical (seemingly without permission from anybody) and the acting CEO isn't very interested in my research.

With the top man AWOL, I'm afraid the camper isn't exactly waiting for you in the car park anymore because it _was_ at risk of being clamped again. I called in a favour with one of grounds maintenance guys, so if you do come looking for it sometime (and that would be very welcome, believe me), it's now settled around the back of the hospital.

In other news, Chrissie is back on AAU so I'm working with the "Mr and Mrs Levy dream-team" again. I seem to have become a sort of weird marriage-counsellor and never has anyone been more inappropriate for such a role!

I mainly just look serious and nod while they talk. I tried to offer advice once (that they should talk to each other instead of me) but this didn't go down well, so I'll stick to the nodding.

Do you know the phrase "a rolling stone gathers no moss?" Well, Sacha gave me this little piece of wisdom the other day: "If you're going to stay here, Luc," he said, "then you need to accept the fact that you're going to gather some moss."

I think he thought I was shutting him out. He was right, really, but it wasn't personal. I think I was shutting everyone out. I don't cope with emotions very well and I had too many to deal with after you left so it was easier to hide in the lab and be indifferent to the patients.

Anyway, Sacha's wisdom made sense to me because I've always thought of myself as a bit of a rolling stone and I've lived my life to that belief: keep moving on and you keep yourself free of the responsibilities that weigh down everyone else.

The idea of people relying on me – or worse, me relying on them – always made me feel trapped. Like an emotional extension of my claustrophobia. But it wasn't a feeling I could get rid of easily by taking the stairs, or opening a window or removing my shoes. The only answer was to run away.

Given the option of fight or flight, the latter has always been my preference. I guess you know that.

Now, I'm trying to fight that urge and the more I stick around, the more I find that the need to run begins to lessen. Its like how they teach people to deal with panic attacks: if you stay in a situation that panics you and nothing horrible happens, you realise that what you were afraid of doesn't actually exist and the next time you're faced with it, you cope with it better. The panic and the instinct to run might not be gone but hopefully it's not as intense as it once was.

It's true that the more I stay here, the more "moss" I accumulate. And I'm beginning to realise that it's not necessarily a bad thing to have friends – real friends – so I'm trying to accept my new role. I find it peculiar to say the least, but it's good to have people to turn to when things are rough. It's not something I ever thought I'd need.

I'm sorry if I'm doing the written equivalent of babbling. It feels good to write it all down on paper and know it'll be read by someone who understands me (even if you often claim the opposite). I'm glad you wrote to me. I'm glad you forgive me and I'm glad you're doing so well. Also, you have my full permission to punch your counsellor because he sounds annoying!

I have to go now, I've just been paged.

Please keep in touch.

Luc


	4. Dear Luc - December

**Dear Luc - December**

* * *

Dear Luc,

Thank you for your letters. Both of them.

I got the first one from Liam. He seemed so nervous when he handed it to me that I wondered what was wrong. But then I saw your familiar scrawl (yes, I noticed straight away and yes, "scrawl" is the best way to describe it) and I knew it would be ok.

I only got the letter a day after I sent my one to you so I guess they must have passed somewhere in the post. It's funny that we both thought to write to each other at the same time after over a month apart. Thank you for all that you said; your words really meant a lot to me.

I'm sorry I wasn't able to reply sooner but things have been a bit difficult this past week or so. I think that's why Liam was so hesitant about giving me your letter, since he kept it to himself for three days.

Perhaps the best way to describe it is that I had a "set back". That's what the clinic's calling it anyway. Its ok, don't panic, I'm fine. Honestly. But I did end up punching someone (not my counsellor), which meant I had to do a lot of grovelling and they wouldn't let me go home for Liam's birthday. I was hoping to surprise him but instead he had to visit me and apologise to everyone for my behaviour. Now that I'm feeling better, I'm so embarrassed and I hate myself for letting him down again.

They reduced my dose to the bare minimum and I didn't cope very well at first. It's been a real struggle but, now that I'm handling it better, I can see it was actually a compliment that they thought I was ready. I'm now trying to prove that they were right to believe in me.

I guess I should thank you, Luc, because you believed in me too. I'm trying to be stubborn about this, like you told me I should be. The past couple of weeks have been awful but, despite Liam's concerns, receiving your letter was the best thing that could have happened. It gave me something to concentrate on and something to aim for because I want to be that person you described. I want to be strong.

It also reminded me that there was once more to my life than just this addiction. Everyone keeps telling me that I can beat it but hearing it from you made it suddenly seem possible, because if you can believe in me then it must be true.

Maybe writing letters is better therapy than all these £40-per-hour counsellors put together!

Your other letter arrived two days ago, on the same day that Mum made a surprise visit. Liam finally caved and told her what had been going on. She insisted on coming to see me straight away and was more concerned and maternal than I think I've ever seen her, though I don't exactly need mothering anymore. But she did make me smile when she repeated what you said (though not in such diplomatic terms).

She was like: "You've always said you didn't want to be me, Eddi, but you're doing a damn good impression!" She told me to snap out of it and ordered two coffees from one of the nurses who happened to be passing (not exactly in her job description but she took it well). Then she started quizzing me about "this pen pal Liam mentioned".

What do you think? Does this make you my pen pal now? I've never had one before. I always thought you had to write letters in French to classify as a pen pal and languages have never been my thing.

Anyway, Mum said it would do me good to have a distraction. Then she asked if you were single, handsome or rich? "Two out of three isn't bad," she said, "but all three would be preferably." So I lied to wind her up and told her you were once handsome, but the struggle of trying to support a wife and six children in a campervan had weathered your looks. Her face was a picture!

Speaking of campervans (since that's probably enough about my mother), I'm glad yours is safe and still at Holby. The new CEO sounds nuts so I hope Hanssen returns soon. I never thought I'd say that! Better the devil you know, I suppose.

I'm also pleased to hear that Sacha is looking out for you because I worry about you, strange as that may sound. Don't be scared to let him in. He's the most dependable person I know so if you're going to have a friend, he's your man. I admit, though, the idea of you giving marriage advice to anyone is laughable.

Keep smiling (or at least not frowning quite so much) and I hope to hear from you soon.

Eddi


	5. Dear Eddi, Dear Luc - Christmas

**Dear Eddi - Christmas**

* * *

Dear Eddi,

Merry Christmas!

I thought I would say that even though I don't really celebrate Christmas – in fact, I usually try to avoid it altogether – but I wanted to send you a cheery greeting to prove to you that I'm trying not to frown (quite so much).

I'm usually a hospital's greatest asset at this time of year because I don't mind volunteering for the shifts no one else wants to work. I'm not exactly Scrooge (though some may beg to differ) but I've never quite _got_ Christmas. Without a family to celebrate with and without any religious leanings what-so-ever, I've just never seen the point.

Still, it's hard not to feel a tiny bit festive when Sacha's around, so I think I've been exposed to more Christmas spirit this year than ever before. I wonder if Sacha was put on this earth purely to bring joy to patients at Christmas time. He volunteered to be Santa again this year and made me come with him to paediatrics. Chrissie was busy and he said if nothing else made me feel Christmassy, this would. He even made me wear a silly hat and, teamed with my scrubs, I really did look like a grumpy elf assistant – that's what he told the children I was. Can't say I've bought into it entirely but I'm coming round to the idea that it's not so bad after all.

I was really pleased to hear that your Mum visited. I know she's not always been the person you'd want to turn to for support, but she's still your mother. If she can be there for you just a tiny bit, that's better than not at all.

I wish I could find a way to be there for you more. I know you said that you're fine now and I'm not to worry but I do, I can't help it. I'd like to think of myself as more than a mere pen pal, but I'm happy to accept that role if these letters help in some way. Plus my grandmother was French, so I sort of qualify.

I'm intrigued by these six children you've invented for me. You've seen the size of my caravan, where would I put them all? To me, it sounds like a scarier prospect than a room full of McKees! I feel sorry for the staff at the clinic, your family gathering must have been quite something to witness.

Anyway, enjoy your Christmas celebrations whatever and wherever they may be. And always _always_ remember: there's more to you than just an addiction. There was before and there will be again.

Stay strong,

Luc

* * *

**Dear Luc - Christmas**

* * *

Dear Luc,

Do you like the card? It's Santa with a grumpy elf. Get it? Make sure you show Sacha.

I know you won't be celebrating, but I wish you a peaceful Christmas. Even if you do end up working instead of enjoying mince pies and mulled wine, I hope the inmates of AAU don't give you too much grief.

"Sunshine" loves Christmas! Whatever problem you came here with, you're guaranteed to leave with a bad case of Christmas cheer. The place is covered in tinsel and fairy lights, with the staff forced into Santa hats. Luckily, they're letting me go home for Christmas day, which gets me out of the Christmas party. Still, Christmas at Mum's could get interesting. Like you said, three McKees all together in one place is just asking for trouble. I'm sure we'll have all fallen out before the Queen's speech has even started.

Mum has been asking about you _again_. I confessed about your non-existent children and told her all about your research, your caravan and your travels and how you thought that kidnapping me and taking me to the back of beyond was the best cure for a Camoxidan addiction. I told her how at first you appear aloof and emotionless but there's far more going on in that mind of yours and deep down you're as mad as the rest of us.

She wanted to know if you'd stolen my heart yet. I didn't know how to answer so Liam butted in and said you'd broken it instead. I suppose that's true, if you buy into that sort of sentimentality, but it all seems such a long time ago now.

There's been a lot of talk about my heart recently, which seems strange. I've always thought it was my mind that was the loose canon. You tried to fix it all, didn't you? But really these are things that can't be "fixed". Warped minds, broken hearts, our hopes, our fears, loves, losses. Even addictions. They all make us who we are.

People always say that we should leave the past behind but that's ridiculous, because if we forget the past, then we forget where we came from and everything we learnt along the way. So, I don't want to forget how it felt when you left because that would somehow weaken the memory of how I felt when you came back. I felt angry and hurt and _so_ unbelievably mad at you, but I also felt relief. Relief that you'd come back, relief that you were ok, relief that you hadn't disappeared from my life forever. I never told you that, did I?

The past is the past. We can't pretend it didn't happen but we can move on. And that's what we're doing now with a new year on the horizon and new lives to lead.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm proud of us.

Merry Christmas, Luc.

Eddi

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this little Christmassy chapter.

Up until now I've tried to keep this fic vaguely in line with what's been happening on screen in Holby since Eddi's departure. That's why I wanted to get as much of this story online over Christmas as it appears they'll be taking Luc's character in a darker direction soon. Looks like I'll need some artistic licence for future chapters!

Anyway, wishing all Holby fans a (belated) Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


	6. Dear Eddi, Dear Luc - January

**Dear Eddi - January**

* * *

Dear Eddi,

Happy New Year!

I hope you got the opportunity to celebrate. Do you remember your antics last year? It seems such a long time ago when you were just this irritating nurse, who got too drunk and climbed on top of my campervan to try and grab fireworks out of the sky.

Your letter got me thinking, like you always do, because this new year _is_ a new start for both of us. The last twelve months were… I don't even know how to describe it. Crazy? Impossible, maybe? Let's hope the months to come will be a smoother ride.

Do you have any new year's resolutions? And does this new start that you're planning include us still being friends? Because you were right about not forgetting the past and being friends seems to me to be the best way to remember.

I have one resolution: honesty.

I know what you're thinking; I'm probably too honest at times. I can be something of a blunt instrument, I suppose, lacking any tact and often offending people without realising. But what I'm really referring to is being more honest with myself and being more honest with those I care about.

I need to be honest about how I feel. This became clear to me when I was reading your letter. What you said, about how you were relieved when I finally found the guts to come back, that struck a chord with me.

I turned up on AAU and you were like a different person and I was worried I'd lost you forever. Then you started yelling at me outside Sacha and Chrissie's wedding, and I felt a similar sense of relief because although you were telling me how much you hated me, it was _you_. And an Eddi that hated me was far better than an Eddi who wasn't quite there.

The wife of a patient once told me that when you fall in love "it's a long way down." My attitude for many years has been: don't expose yourself to love, don't get hurt, problem solved. I guess that's why I ran away like I did, because I was afraid that if I cared too much, there would be no going back. That sense of inevitability felt like a trap to me. By being alone, I thought I was protecting you as well as saving myself.

It's only since that night when I found you after Sacha's wedding and stole you away, that I've really understood. You were so out of it, slumped on that bench outside the hospital. Your hands were so cold and I just couldn't leave you. I was so scared, more than I've been in a long time. I was afraid that, if I left you to cope with your addiction on your own, there would come a point when I might not see you again and I couldn't bear that thought. I guess, it's only when something so important could be taken away from you, that you realise its worth.

It's a long way down, indeed.

Luc

* * *

**Dear Luc - January**

* * *

Dear Luc,

Can I just take a moment to say: Blimey, Mr Hemingway!

That was almost a declaration at the end of your last letter. Are you feeling ok?

I know you're a medical man, who views the heart as a purely functional part of the human body, but it honestly won't hurt if you show your _heart _in a figurative sense too, Luc. No one would think any less of you. I know I don't and I'm not exactly the sentimental type.

But I'll stop teasing you.

It's very true what you said because it doesn't matter who or what you love. Your family, your friends, or that one special person. Maybe a place that inspired you or something as everyday as a TV show or a football team. Once you love something and are emotionally invested in it, there really is no going back.

I always thought that about how committed you are to your research. How much it drives you. I don't know if it's a love of knowledge or something much deeper, but its there. That emotional connection that makes it more than just work, that makes it far too important to give up on.

I've decided that the thing I love most is nursing (apparently we're both workaholics but there are worse addictions). I've made it clear throughout my time at Sunshine that my aim is to return to work and since its part of my rehabilitation programme to get me back into the workplace, they've finally found me a placement.

It's a four-week stint at Leeds General, only part time and on a very quiet ward so I'm bored out my brains most of the time, but it feels good to be helping people again. I couldn't stand any more of being fussed over. Now it's my turn to do the caring.

Today, I've been looking after two ladies having hip ops and a guy recovering from an appendectomy. It's not exactly AAU but it's the most "at home" I've felt in months.

The only thing missing is a grumpy registrar!

So, to answer your question, I think staying friends and staying in touch is definitely the best way to remember how far we've come. I'm just sorry that I've put you through so much.

Eddi

P.S. I don't think I need to tell you what my new year's resolution is. I'm giving up something beginning with C (and it isn't chocolate).

* * *

A/N: I'm still gutted about Luc's departure, but it only makes me more determined to finish this little story. Looks like its going to be ten parts in total.


	7. Dear Eddi, Dear Luc - Early February

**Dear Eddi – Early February**

* * *

**_Post-it #1_**

Dear Eddi,

Sorry for the informality of a post-it note in an envelope. I couldn't find any paper.

I've been asked to speak at a conference in York the day after tomorrow. It's all a bit short notice.

**_Post-it #2_**

Someone dropped out at the last minute and they've asked me to step in. Talk a bit about my research, my funding etcetera.

I thought maybe I'd drop in on you and Liam afterwards? Say hello?

**_Post-it #3_**

Would that be too weird? I don't know. It's too late to check.

I'll call by anyway and you can always tell me to get lost!

Luc

* * *

**Dear Luc – Early February**

* * *

**_Sent First Class_**

Dear Luc,

Short letter. Very short! I'm down to Bath tomorrow. Long story!

I'm sending this first class in the hope it'll reach you in time.

I thought I might drop by the hospital on my way home. See you and surprise Sacha.

Eddi

P.S. Good news, I am officially discharged from Sunshine.

* * *

A/N: I know this part is rather short and a bit random but there is method in my madness, I promise!


	8. Dear Eddi, Dear Luc - Late February

**Dear Eddi – Late February**

* * *

Dear Eddi,

I'm so sorry to have missed you.

Sacha has been telling me all about your visit. He says you were in good spirits and looked to be in good health too. You have no idea how happy this made me, to hear that you're doing so well. I just wish I could've been there to witness it myself.

Sacha has been cheerful ever since. Or should I say: more cheerful than usual. He keeps winking and grinning at me and talking about you non-stop. "Eddi this and Eddi that." It's finally not painful to hear him mention you because I know you're better.

I'm sure Liam has told you already, but I did try to visit you in Leeds on the way back from my conference. How bizarre that I should be there when you were here.

Liam said you had to go to Bath. He was rather cryptic about it, which intrigued me but I didn't feel it was my place to pester him for more information. Maybe you have found yourself a new man? If so, I will try not to be jealous!

To be honest, I wasn't sure how Liam would react when I turned up on his doorstep. After the way things were when you left Holby, I thought he would still be angry with me. I know he blames me for what happened to you. I suspected as much and he confirmed it to my face. I couldn't find it in me to disagree with him either. I should have looked after you better.

Still, I understand now that we've talked things through together. He was so scared and worried for you. He wanted to take care of you and make sure you got well again. It's not like I cannot sympathise with that sentiment.

It's easier, now, to speak of that day. Time has passed and you are on the road to recovery. All our emotions were so heightened at the time and it was hard to think straight, let alone communicate properly.

That's why I've been so glad of these letters. It helps me organise my thoughts – as I do when writing research papers – in a way I could never do inside my head. And sometimes my head is a scary place to be. Writing makes it easier. _You_ make it easier.

Luc

* * *

**Dear Luc – Late February**

* * *

Dear Luc,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner. My trip to Bath gave me a lot to think about.

It was lovely to catch up with Sacha but I must admit I was so hurt that you were not there and had gone up to Yorkshire (of all places!) without telling me. Then, of course, I returned to find your envelope full of post-it notes and Liam's story of your visit.

I'm sorry if Liam appeared cryptic, that was at my request. I'd asked him not to tell anyone, not even Mum. Sacha got it out of me but I particularly didn't want to tell you until it was confirmed.

And, no, I haven't found myself a man – that role is still open – which, sort of brings me to the main reason for this letter.

I've been offered a job as a staff nurse. It's a _real_ job that I got on my own merit. It's not just one found for me by the clinic. Like I hinted in my last letter, I'm fully discharged now. I just have to go for an assessment every two months and visit a local counsellor every other week.

But never mind all that. The important thing I'm trying to tell you is the job is in Bath and that's only about 10 miles from Holby. So, if you wanted to see me any time, I won't be far away.

In fact, I'll make it easy for you. I move at the end of this week. So, on Friday night I'll be in Albie's with two glasses of orange juice. 8 o'clock on the dot. And if you want to join me, you can. And if you don't want to, that's ok too.

Maybe I'll see you there.

Love Eddi

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry there's been such a large gap between parts. Real life got a bit crazy. The storylines in Holby have moved on quite a bit now (still not over Tara departure!) but I really wanted to finish off this little Leddi story. I'll try and get the final part on here as soon as I can.


End file.
